


A Hot Jungle Filled With Even Hotter Love

by GiveMeTheStrapOn



Category: Historical RPF
Genre: Blowjobs, Humor, It's supposed to be half ridiculous, M/M, OC, OCs - Freeform, Vietman War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:21:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28370808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GiveMeTheStrapOn/pseuds/GiveMeTheStrapOn
Summary: The Vietnam War, an American Camp, a would-be invader, and the American hero he falls for.Prompt:"A young U.S. Senator John McCain is in Vietnam leading his fictional squadron the "Dark Faced Bandits" through those restless days & nights in the jungle. (the name comes from an enemy monster from a Hong Kong made video game that became an in-joke, it isn’t meant to have any racial or derogatory connotations).Characters: John McCain as the leader of the squadron (your stereotypical red-blooded American "Captain America" type), there is a sadistic, sniper, "lone-wolf" type known by the moniker "Fried Rice Pete" for mysteriously ambiguous reasons, a young & optimistic Californian farm boy who is way in over his head, & a local Vietnamese who hardly speaks English and yet has managed to infiltrate the squad mostly due to the rest of the teams utter lack of self-awareness. This can be schlocky, and comedic!"
Relationships: Fried Rice Pete (OC)/Jimmy (OC), John McCain/ Luc (OC)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was a commission piece I did from a reddit post about absurd pairings and ridiculous erotica between whoever the commissioner chooses! 
> 
> If you're interested in commissioning a piece, whether similar to this one or different, hit me up either on twitter (@StrapInBoys) or reddit (u/GiveMeTheStrapOn).
> 
> I hope you like this absurd revisionist history!
> 
> (This is by no means meant to be disrespectful, all is done in the name of humor and money.)

Luc, or as the stupid Americans called him, Luke, didn’t know how he’d been able to infiltrate the American troop as easily as he had. Originally a suicide mission thrusted upon him by his own squad in the Viet Cong, Luc had approached the American camp with only a rifle and a prayer that he’d make it out alive after his attack. But as luck would have it, the second he rushed in to attack the Americans eating their nightly meal around the campfire, instead of being killed and rushed, he was instead invited over to eat by the most handsome and enchanting man he’d ever laid eyes on. Skin white as milk and stinking slightly of the jungle, was the beautiful man who’s name Luc would later learn to be John. John McCain.

John invited him over to the fire and offered Luc some of his rations, the firelight’s reflection and a hidden passion burning in his eyes. 

“Hey there, soldier. I haven’t seen you around. Are you fresh off from being stateside?”

_Wait,_ Luc thought, _does this gorgeous moron think I'm an American? Ugh I want to kill him for such an insulting insinuation… but those exotic, round eyes are so captivating…_

“Uh…” Luc replied. He knew some English. Understood it more than he could speak. Hopefully they wouldn’t get wise…

“It’s ok, don’t be nervous! Here, you can sit next to me. If you want.” John turned his head to the side, trying to hide the blush creeping across his cheeks. Luc sat down next to John, their knees just touching. Whether the warmth Luc felt was from the fire or from John’s smoldering look, he didn’t know. 

In an attempt to assuage the awkwardness, John continued. “Say since you’re new, let me introduce you to my squad! This here is Jimmy. He’s from a small farm town out in Cali.” Luc turned towards Jimmy, figuring he should at least look at where John was pointing. The boy named Jimmy shot Luc a timid smile and wave. Blonde, covered in freckles, and built like the side of the barn he worked in, Jimmy was a Western Adonis™️. Or at least he would be, if his teeth weren’t so hideously bucked out. Each looked as though they’d tried to dodge the draft but regrettably realized that they were stuck to this damn kid ‘till they got knocked out by a swift punch. And damn kid was right. _How old could he be? 18??_ Thought Luc. He was in his 20s himself, but if this kid hadn’t been built like a damned tank, Luc thought he may have had the impulse to steal his lunch money. John then pointed at another man sitting at the fire. 

“And THAT over there is Fried Rice Pete. Sniper. Assassin. Best damn pancake maker in the whole squad! Ironically can’t make fried rice for shit, but he rips throats out of people for us, so we don’t hold it against him.”

Fried Rice Pete looked like a wolf of a man. Grizzled, covered in scars with an eyepatch and a sneer on his face, he had a sleek, utilitarian musculature. He was a man who looked as though he lived for the blood sport of war. His square jaw, covered in a dark scruff, led up to his luxurious black hair. There was a little grey at his temples, looking regal and dignified, and not at all as though they caused Fried Rice Pete to have an existential crisis about the ever onward marching of time in his bathroom mirror each evening. But most prominently, Fried Rice Pete was giving Luc a look. A Luc look. A look at Luc. The look directed at Luc. Fried Rice Pete looked as though he still hadn’t yet decided whether or not he was going to either kill or fuck Luc. It was an interesting expression, one that made Luc feel the need to adjust his pants and cross his legs at his seat beside John. 

_Well this is certainly an interesting bunch. All handsome and dumb as hell to not see me for who I am. I guess it’s true what they say about Americans._

“Oh, where are my manners!? I’m Captain McCain, but everyone just calls me John. What’s your name, soldier?” As John said that, he gave Luc the ol’ up-and-down with his eyes, spending an unnecessary amount of time letting those very sinful eyes hover around Luc’s crotch. 

Luc thankfully knew that last question. 

“I’m Luc.” He figured if he didn’t reply much and just acted shy, he may be able to get out of this situation with his hide intact and the blood of these American enemies on his hands. But even as he thought it, Luc realized he liked the attention John was paying him. He’d never before felt like this with a man, but these were Americans. Foreigners in his land. Maybe this is normal in their country, the way they all seem to be staring at him like he’s the last slice of cake at a bakery. 

“Well, Luke, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” John grabbed Luc’s hand and shook it. At that moment, a spark ran down Luc’s fingers and up his spine. Right then and there, a fire had started in his gut, and it was then he knew that only John’s hose could help him put it out. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The night continues.

Later, after they’d all finished their meals, the four decided it was time to hit the hay. Together they put out the campfire easily, but looking over at John, Luc could see that there was no dousing the fire in those eyes. 

“Well fellas, have a good night!” Piped Jimmy, as he and Fried Rice Pete headed towards their shared tent. Fried Rice Pete grunted his goodnight out alongside Jimmy’s, along with another last minute glare at Luc.

Though they they were much better at hiding their feelings for eachother than John was about this new and random soldier, Jimmy and Fried Rice Pete had an incredibly active and athletic sex life behind closed doors. And don’t let the charming farm boy smile fool you; in bed Jimmy was essentially a 20th century Marquis de Sade. Sadistic and cruel, Jimmy knew ways to make you beg for mercy and plead for more punishment at the same time. Whips, chains, gags, plugs, it didn’t matter; Jimmy knew his instruments of torture inside and out, and loved them all. But his favorite toy to use was Fried Rice Pete, and Fried Rice Pete loved to be used like the little cum slut he knew he was. Fried Rice Pete was an instrument of war. He liked being utilized in whatever area needed his talents the most, whether that was being used by the United States government to kill enemies of the state, or being used by Jimmy for his sadistic sexual needs. One of Jimmy’s favorite things to do was to stick a massive dildo to the floor and force Fried Rice Pete to ride it while holding up two trays of grenades. “If you don’t make yourself cum on that cock in the next 5 minutes, you won’t be allowed to cum for the next month! But don’t drop the grenades!” And of course all of this while Jimmy pulled at the nipple clamps connected to Friend Rice Pete’s chest. 

That particular scene was a lazy sunday morning favorite between the two. 

As they left the campfire and went towards their tent, Jimmy and Fried Rice Pete didn’t know exactly what they were going to do that evening. All Jimmy knew was that he wanted to use a gag, a whip, and a bayonet. Oh the possibilities offered in imagination on this warm jungle night….

As John headed back towards his tent, he realized that Luc hadn’t moved towards any of the sleeping arrangements. 

“Oh of course, have you not been assigned sleeping quarters yet? That’s ok, you can join me! I have room in my tent. It’s just been me and myself the whole time.” He grabbed the back of his neck as he chuckled, looking more than a little bashful.

“OK” replied, Luc.  _ Sure,  _ he thought, _ then in the morning it will be easy to kill the invading American. Cause he’ll be tired and relaxed. And he’ll be laying on the bedroll, all spread out and splayed in the warm morning glow, face soft and relaxed with sleep… _

Luc shook himself from his thoughts as John gently tugged on his shoulder, guiding him in the direction of his tent. Being an officer, the tent was slightly bigger than the others, but not by much. Ducking in the doorway after John, Luc saw him frantically setting up a second bedroll next to the one already lying on the floor. 

“Here ya go, Luke!” John exclaimed, proudly pointing to the new bedroll. 

“Thank you,” Luc replied as he went to go sit on his mat to remove his shoes. 

Shoes and outer layer of jungle mud gone, he laid back and watched as John bustled about the tent, performing his night-time routine. As he watched, he got to see the movements of muscle and sinew in John’s back. He got to see those muscled arms move with strength and grace as flies were swatted and mosquitos were smacked. He got to watch that ripe and round booty jiggle as John hopped around on one foot, trying to get his boot off. It was a one man show that Luc would happily buy a ticket to for every night of the week. Until it closed down after that week because One Man shows are historically known for doing shittily in the box office, but that’s none of Luc’s current concern…

John finally finished up getting ready for bed, putting out the light and laying back next to Luc on his own bed roll. 

“Well, I’m glad I met you today, Luke. Have a good night.”

“Night.”

After a few minutes of silence between the two men, John turned towards Luc. 

“Brrr, this tropical jungle is kind of cold. We should huddle together. You know… for warmth.”

It was a typically hot night in that jungle tent.  _ Why on earth would he want to… oh…. _

Now knowing what came over him, Luc replied, “Ok.”

As John scooted closer to “conserve warmth”, Luc found that he didn’t mind it as much as he thought he would. John was a solid presence next to him in the night, no sounds to be heard except the millions of bugs, the gunfire in the distance, and John’s soft breathing against his cheek. All at once, it was too much. Luc realized that his body had started to act without his knowledge, and that he was already achingly hard between his legs. Shifting a bit so as not to arouse suspicion, he realized that that lump in his side wasn’t a rock on the ground. No, he could feel the beginnings of John’s own erection, growing steadily along with the pace of his breath in Luc’s ear. Luc surprised himself by speaking first this time. “You… cold?”

“No, I’m perfect.”

_ Perfect. Yes, that’s how it felt right then in that cramped and smelly tent up against this stunning American. Perfect. _

Before Luc could even think properly about what he was doing, he found himself passionately kissing John. And John was right there, kissing him back with everything he had. Suddenly, Luc his and John’s tongues were battling for dominance, hands flying everywhere as they fought to touch every last square inch of the other all at once. Shirts were raked up, pants yanked off and down. Finally breaking the kiss, John started his descent, trailing kisses and little bites all down Luc’s pronounced pectorals towards his

“Oh!” Luc was already breathless, feeling the surprisingly skillful tongue lapping at his dick against the fabric of his underwear.  _ Oh God, that filthy Yankee.  _ After having had enough, Luc desperately tore his own underwear down to allow John and that sinful tongue access to the more important parts inside of his pants. John got right back to work, taking the whole thing down his throat in one go. 

“Mẹ kiếp!” Luc couldn’t stop his native language from leaving his tongue, but thankfully John seemed too focused on the task at hand to have noticed. The man himself was steadily rutting himself against Luc’s leg in an effort to get himself off. 

_ Is he getting off to this??  _ Luc thought only a split second before John’s tongue and mouth had achieved its goal, taking in every last drop now spilling from Luc. John then started rubbing himself on Luc faster and faster until he, too, followed Luc over that orgasmic edge. 

Laying back, taking in heaping gulps of breath, the men let the night air wash over them. 

“Well that was…”

“...yeah…”

Having finally caught their breaths and cooled down, the two new lovers moved to entangle themselves with the other. And that’s how they fell asleep, holding each other in that smelly little tent, basking in post-orgasmic bliss. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end is coming.

The next morning, the men of the camp awoke to pleasingly good weather and a light breeze sweeping through the jungle. Luc was looking at John’s sleeping face when the latter slowly opened his eyes, a satisfied and soft smile spreading across his face. John spoke first. 

“Hey.”

“Hi” Luc replied with a smile of his own. 

“Guess we have to get up and start the day, huh?”

“Yeah.”

Getting up and out to start the day was easy and lazy, with Jimmy and Fried Rice Pete joining them for a quick breakfast of Fried Rice Pete’s pancakes and pleasant morning greetings. 

Afterwards, while the other men were starting their daily tasks, John called out to Luc from the edge of the campsite, just inside the trees. He had a flirtatious smile on his face that made Luc think he might get lucky enough to get a repeat performance of last night behind some trees. He headed over, lured into the brush by John’s promising grin. Once they were out of immediate sight of the camp, Luc turned to John, aiming to get himself a mid-morning kiss.

“Yes, Joh-?” 

All of a sudden, there was a great pain in his stomach. Luc looked down, horror-struck, to see a knife sticking out of his gut, the other end being held by John. 

Embracing him as the knife twisted further into his gut, John grabbed hold of the back of Luke’s neck with his free hand, bringing together their foreheads in a perverted lover’s embrace. 

“I’m so sorry, Luke. But I can’t let the Commies win.” He whispers into Luc’s ear. “Please forgive me.” The knife is yanked further up, deeper into his abdomen. There is nothing left in Luc’s world but pain and betrayal as he falls to his knees, his vision growing dark as he stares at John in surprise. 

Reaching out to the new lover he’s now lost, Luc can only whisper “John,” before finally succumbing to the encroaching blackness.

And then Luc is on the ground, heart no longer pumping, a lone tear left on his lack face. 

John feels tears of his own threatening to explode over his cheeks, but hurriedly stops them. He’s a part of the Dark-Faced-Bandits. This is how they triumph over their enemies.

_For God and country._

He wipes the blood off of his blade, and walks silently back towards camp. 

He does not look back. 

**_Fin._ **


End file.
